Damned if you did, doomed if not.
Having known this
through hearsay, through experience.
Yet no dearth to find new ones
no sooner are out the old,
either realised or left unfulfilled.
To chase one after another,
blinded by sight,
unrealised you wander:
The contents and the coats,
the glamour and the garb,
the vanity and the veneer
And even the feel,
the fervent of them each
may at times be different
Yet, all that you chase,
and all that you wake up to,
all that makes you toss and turn sleepless.
Be it the dreams unfulfilled,
the nightmares realised,
or the yearnings long longed.
Are but shades of the same unfulfillment
that will leave you not
until you have emptied yourself.
Emptied yourself of you
and become one with the only
that's the fulfillment ultimate.
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